


My Dear Melancholy,

by lachowskii



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Celebrities & Real People - Fandom
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, Depression, Ego, Emotions, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feelings, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Music, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27215956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachowskii/pseuds/lachowskii
Summary: A compilation fic in two separate POV's, there is a time to face principles of worth even if he isn't desired anymore. No matter how trivial the outcome.
Relationships: Seth MacFarlane/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Call Out My Name

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I don't know Seth Macfarlane. I just own the concept. This fic title and chapter titles are all influenced by the EP released by The Weeknd called "My Dear Melancholy,."  
>   
>  **Trigger Warnings** Chapter 4 and Chapter 6 both have small hints of suicide, although I wouldn't even want to use this word I would have to for safety measures. As always, read this with the "Reading view" across kindles or iPad devices for a better experience.
> 
>  **Find Me Here on my Social Medias**  
>  Twitter : https://twitter.com/psychsinema (message/tweet me there if you ever want to chat)  
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> Tumblr: Info can be found here on my ao3 profile  
>    
> **:: Comment if you desire. Also, subscribe to my account so you can get an email when I post something ::**

Numbness. I told you. I wanted you to believe I was empty. Lying to you isn't so hard now. Even though you don't want me, I wish you would stay. 

I needed to carve so many areas of the way I was just a sunken man dazed by your heartbreak. As soon as I went home, I felt the dizziness appear when the door opened. Was my chest going to pop? My hands were touching the floor, trying to get myself to breathe, but it seems like they were becoming buried under the carpet in the illusion. 

_Who is it._  
_Who was it._  
_Not sure if I can take it._

Tailored breathing. Sweat. A reflection of me in the mirror will not help. I made it upstairs to put water on my face, but I am crushed beyond memory. _Fuck._ Your comfort is no longer belonging. Probably no longer needed. Your tears in a time like this, sour music in my ears, and my heart can't take this. I worshipped every foot you made across terrains. I was dusting the wind of your scent when anyone walked past—claiming you—admiring you. What was it ever so deeply to break it all. I was ending it all. You won't answer me. Tears for you as you gave me won't help. 

Silence. As I wrote.  
_Wednesday, 12:23 am: Openly holding us in the air—when you're close to me. I wish she would stay even though she doesn't want me. I'm have not fell out of tenderness._

I almost wished a part of me was cut open to create the madness of your mind drifting from my life. Do I hate you? Do I wish we could fuck again? Do I expect we could linger when you were such a woman with me? It doesn't matter how old I am. How old I would become. Bad habits create a love pattern; I can't seem to forget. We've traveled beyond the normal affection to something more vital to watch this become frail like water to a leaf. 

_Defeated. Defeated. Defeated._ Hearing you say _'I don't love you'_ and make me feel how salty my failure is. The moment seems endless, and the world spins. 

I expected you to wait until I fell out of love with you before you decided to fuck someone else. Love someone else. Crave someone else. Remember, I know the real you. When the psyche begins to pulsate, you'll wake up next to him, calling out my name. 

You didn't deserve me.


	2. Try Me

You know, after the emotions poured and I realized after weeks of not speaking, it must finally be over. I must ask if you've put your pride aside?

Are you alone? If he isn't around, I wonder if you should give me the attention that takes it to a lingering place. It makes me wonder, I thought, if you genuinely love him.

After so long, do I still run through you passionately the way you do for me? Concrete thoughts spill their way in my daily routine—the midst of air from outside in continuous rain away from my typical sunlight. The white sheets kiss you tightly and caressing enough of a dangerous woman who knows what she wants. Consistent in communication and love, it's beyond me to not admire your presence of domination in a way I no one else can witness. The way you lose your mind when we'd touch.

_Swallowing me in with no effort._

All out of care and control. Transfixed on you, how you walk and dress whenever we company each other amongst others or alone. I used to think we're broken together but more of masters in communion than one could fathom. I remember thinking you wouldn't understand the way I cherish you. Apprehensions were clouding the lapse of normality we've created. Dangerous. Godly. Always needing you badly. Entangled like tastes of honey that are shredding through the softness of your skin. I think of all positions you spark upkeep, grace, and drive. 

_  
Look at me. Do that again.  
Smile. Breathe me in.  
_

I notice sometimes I become enthralled by the tiniest of things. Being chosen, belonging, fucking, breaking, scattered to pieces of coldness within a rational ego to reassemble. 

I notice sometimes it's a phone call or a message. _"Seth, keep my company,"_ is all that needs to be said for me to drive in the dark to find you. No begging, no pleading, not until I can touch the softness of your skin. Watching you shiver, sort of like a leaf, ready to fall from sanity away from its branches. 

I notice sometimes it's a whisper. You hold my waist, standing behind me. I can't see you, but I know those lips are carving a smile. Challenging my imagination. I love it more when my whisper alone can meet your ears, knowing " _you are loved by me_." Is my breath slick and sharp, just like you like it? Like cutting through paper, inviting my dance to a sweet song. 

I notice sometimes it's slight contact between us. Just my fingers are brushing against the inside of your thighs and clawing slightly, unnoticeable at times, awake you with passion, and a desire has been shown before me. 

Do you know when sin comes in? Engulfs you, twists you with lust. I love it when your body shakes like an addict when a needle touches its flesh. _Breaking you, tame you, owning you._ Branding with different pleasures until your thirst for more. At-least of that being said is how you looked at our love before. The present time has shifted where we fuck beyond measure until you can't utter your coherence sentence. You've had me as all hidden figures and standard of names, but a label doesn't complete us. Pain doesn't tear us apart but combined with pleasure, it's a weight you can no longer hold. I love the moans you bring to me, piercing my ears to the core. Shamefully the sound of the dirtiest amount of thoughts you disperse for me when my tongue across from you.

They're just memories. I wish you would _try me_ again. 

Remember a taste of honey wasted. We'd power exchange within choking when I knew you loved to be in that headspace—the order of things in which I gave you so much submission in saving a precious source. The way your tongue played with me, just the tip, dancing around my veins and making sure the ending is never spilled across the floor. Remember waking up to me, giving you all control. You're so in heat like a bomb will go off, but you don't flinch at all. Do you? Whatever circumstance, whatever order of things you give, it's granted with kisses in every place I lick you. Innocence in you always danced for the devil at night. 

I know after caring for you, it was a beauty. A beauty that is erased. Heating us when icy droplets were forming to the ground and whiskey formed the table's water circle. You used to tell me my breath smelled of sin and honey. Retreating to how your lips would be so close to mine, but you always wanted me to make the first move. Form of your eyes looked smooth, swallowing hard, and if I only put my hand on your thigh from being exposed in the skirt, you wore _you_ were dancing on thin ice. You observed my long fingers, touching, and playing. 

_Sometimes I wondered if we twisted and just a subtle step of exposure?_

Fucking and spiral of secrets. Commands. Obedience. Lusting for you was beyond a love I could hardly put towards anyone else. If you were still waiting for me to brush my tongue on your lips slightly and you'd grip my hair to expose my neck. Dramatics. Fathom of teasing and agony. You inspired me more on a drunk night in the tune of overwhelming pure love of flesh between flesh. Immersed in a world of trapped souls, but we were so free. 

If you crave me as your thirst belongs, then delight our differences and try me again. Can you?

Deep down you may not want me, but you can never truly leave me.


	3. Wasted Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You made a choice last night and Seth is reminding you of the sexual power the two of you hold together.

You have been with me since the beginning. I must say it's sometimes wasted when seeing you pass my way at work. I think about the ending, the screaming, and the misuse of language. Seeing your new man pick you up, kiss him on the cheek while giving him a gaze that was once mine. 

Are you going to tell him you saw me last night? 

It doesn't matter if I, too, have been seeing someone else. She doesn't give me the feeling like you used to. I sometimes hope not to wake up next to her when your body and mind could be shared next to me. Could you not ask me why I? foolishly don't feel in the depth of character in return to a woman I'm currently seeing. I know how you crave in unimaginable fonts that some other man can't make you unwind the way I can. 

_You know my dick is always an option for you._

The way you function on top of me is something I only deserve to have. Trending nerves tickling out of spite for me, but you suck cock so lovely. Fucking you while he doesn't know is what brought me joy, even if it was momentary. Is it typical to hook-up if you aren't entirely over an ex or willing to admit to yourself you still become numb under my touch? I wonder if that was ever a good thing. 

You know, between us, within our touch, it kisses thousands of moons above us. When you stepped in my car, we yelled, we argued, we kissed, we gnawed on each other lips, and I loved the sweet scent of your neck into me. I love pushing you into the edge, swimming inside you, and making you drip.

_You ride me as you own it. Ride me as you need it._

Do you know how much blood flows we gather between the two of us? In the car, with you on top of me. We are trapped behind glass within touching and heating bodies that create stuttering moans from both of us. The others I sleep with don't reminisce any single part of how you feel. 

Look at me. 

Do you need to give all of this to someone else? Does he have what I have? Does he have money as long as mine? Any solace to comfort you when you want anything? Since the start, you have been here, and I wish you wouldn't leave, but I have no time to bring up feelings into this. 

Thunder roars above us as rainfall, and I'm still squeezing your ass and tugging your lips to meet mine. Tongue licking your neck and feeling you shake as you _cum_ on me. _Over and over._ You know the numbness of never letting go. When we fuck it became almost depressing but solid. Choking each other, for example. You loved the power dynamic. Being able to watch me turn red when I knew it was anger you wanted to express to me. Remember this, in the aftermath of this circus; we bleed through the pain when we fuck. Always remember that. 

Your new man barely touches you. Too preppy. Too much of a clean guy. You know you beg for something more profound but never knew how to ask. He can't make sure you let out the inner equestrian when you ride this dick. When you squeeze and yell for more when I scratch my nails across your thighs. I wish to think you tell me "no more," but you bite my ear and tell me you love it. 

_  
I'm shameless to you.  
You want me.   
You can have me.   
_

It's like burning through more courses when I laid you in the backseat. Like, we aren't young anymore, and we know this. The rain was still falling, and it's a blur to everyone how much we can't hold it in. Grunt. Sweat. Dripping. Darkness falls continuously on me like thick drapes at the end of the playtime we create. I sulk into you with all control. You tell me you _"hate me"_ , but you ask me to _"go deeper"_ and when I make you cum again, you're sharing with those spent eyes that leave a stain I could never remove. 

_Fuck._

Face it. He doesn't have what I want. I love to get your body high without any addictive substance involved.


	4. I Was Never There (We)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T/W: Small suicidal references but nothing major at all. I still feel the need to disclaim it.

Something is waiting on him—every day and night, waiting for disapproval. 

Inside of control, Seth hates losing. He lost you. He has to face it with alcohol dripping on his fingers when he wipes his mouth. Sulking. Binging. Careless. Not for a romanticized item. Genuinely battered into mixed guides traveling through the night on the step. His stares, empty and lifeless. 

_"I hate this."_ He chants. Over and over. He can't force it to move out of his system. What makes a grown man want it so bad? Taking a life? His very own. It's not like a mixture of water and oil that blends well. Inside a crest haven of stupid decisions. Perhaps how he lost you, being mindless. It's like having enough, and his voice is no longer appearing. 

Sounds fade into an eerie warped melody when there isn't any playing. _Toxicity.Poision._ He is. Not you. 

You have had chronic nights of picking him up off the floor in this type of slumber. You were enjoying drinks at a bar and dancing by the jukebox to some slow-dancing poppish David Bowie record, and catering his laughter into equilibrium forced the majority to his kind wind. The way he kissed, smelled, and paid attention to your own needs. Like a match so perfect but burned abruptly as he sips his drink again while it fizzles his stomach. He hates it. Himself. He doesn't hate you. 

He boils. Treasures. Desire. What is it that withholds him peace for something healthy? Why can't it just be healthy? Maybe the bowl of cereal in the morning was simplistic for you, but to him, he felt skin crushed while he smoked and paced all the time as it has gotten so soggy to throw away. Maybe the tent beside the fire pit was an incredible moment for deep conversation, but he only may it about himself. He knows it. It wasn't narcissism; it was just a lack of self-awareness. Maybe it was when he comes home, and all you wanted was love, but he gave you everything against logic. Steadily, he does it even though you're not together anymore. He dreams and wonders every moment he forgot everything should have been for you. 

In his mind, he was there. Seth was present, and his lack of interpersonal conclusions within both of you was not his awareness. He drinks the last sip. He pours another drink. He keeps thinking until he's probably stomach soured fruitless being on his floor. Because that what he wants. Seth wants a lifeless type of night, and re-kindling isn't helping. He fucked up emotionally for your comfort, and you made the right choice. 

However, his choices backfire and hide within collarbones. 

Dialing for the fifth time, you were out at the bar and biting your lip. Not in a sexy way. The nervous way. You always wondered, _what if_ situations happened and you weren't there for him. Telling your man the old ' _I have to go to the bathroom_ ' technique and silently crushing in your soul to try not to get tears of anger and sadness. 

The six ring. You answered. 

"Seth. I love you, but I don't want you." You answered. 

_  
Breaking inside.  
Nightmarish words.  
He doesn't want to hear that shit.  
_

"Seth. You've got to stop." 

"I would if only I believed I'm going to make it. I know I won't. Not without you. Tonight feels like I'm going fade." 

The tear falls down your right cheek. You can tell the drunken slumber he is in.

"I'm going to come to see you. Give me thirty minutes." You said. 

The way he speaks keeps attached like a magnet. Damnation from escaping being lost at sea, but he's the one who's lost beyond measure.


	5. Hurt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You ended seeing Seth and some sour truths get told. To your dismay, it's not the kind of truth you were expecting.

It was more damaging internally than it looked. You made excuses, but your current man knew. In terms of hollow experiences with Seth, this could've been a hellish night if you didn't answer the phone. You take peace in knowing you can have your commands and demands met with anyone, but with Seth, it's different. 

Perhaps relationships can be the enemies which we face of cowardice reasons. Nothing is so complicit. You thought about it on the ride to his home. The gates meet, you steal have code access, and you find him into the prism. You know, the prism of his library. Sunken place on the floor and not letting go of his precious library of books and alcohol. The darkroom of massive literature where he also draws and Skype. Nothing about this man you didn't know already. However, a drunk tongue speaks soberly into the moonlight. Were you ready to have this conversation? Neither of you is in the mood to be hurt. 

"Like you give a shit...." Seth slurred. 

You took in a deep breath. Nothing is going to stop between the two of you if it's never faced. Suppose it's never in its damnation of control just to let it all out. Something about what Seth just said choked air out of you, but you let it slide. You look at him concerned, tilted head, and shake. A chuckle. A roll of the eye. Not a sense of spark, but because these are also contributions to leaving. 

"Am I your enemy?" You asked. "Last time I checked, I'm still giving a shit. I mean, look at you." 

He sat up against one of the massive bookshelves and took a sip of his drink. He was placing the glass on the floor. He wasn't too drunk to stand on his feet as you helped him, but he didn't want it. He scoffed away from you. Deep down, there's so much bottled. 

"Is this the life you want?" You stated as he glared at you. He never stopped staring. It wasn't always sultry but a demeaning glare. Like he was in anger but awe that you were still in there. A cross between inspection and acerbity. 

"You're always doing this shit, Seth. Filling a void." You said, stepping two spaces closer to him and the only thing he hears are the sound of your heels against his hardwood floor. 

"You want to talk about the void? Like you don't try to fill it with every man you meet? Every man you fuck." Seth said. 

"I came here to check-in and hope to GOD you weren't dying, but it seems to me you have some hatred. Why is that?"

"Cut the shit." He spat. 

"Simply because I left? Cause I don't care about this self absorbent attitude of yours? This high lifestyle and not to mention -" 

"You don't even love yourself. So sorry if the man you been with for all these years isn't intuitive enough for you." Seth replied. 

_The time you wanted to end it all._   
_The time you begged him not to leave you._   
_Night you couldn't sleep from crying._

He held you close. You did the same for him. The relationship was not an illusion of cozy blankets under fire logs with tea. The prism of it all was like a magnifying closed-in fabric suffocating life between different opinions, endless arguing, and the lack of compassion. 

_Two people uncompassionate to thy self, then it will be for thy other. ___

__"We're not playing the blame game. Fuck you if that's what you think-"_ _

__"Fuck you!." Seth interrupted. He was pacing around you. "You pretend like we were abusive or some shit. Like we hurt each other to this idea that you like someone else. You truly think I don't know the real you."_ _

__"The real me..." You quietly stated as he got closer to you. Sometimes you were brighter than the sun when he gets this close. Even after every drink, you could make this man abstain from feeling the slumber. "I don't even know the real me." You said, shrugging your shoulders while your eyes began to get red. "Perhaps, I'm just as confused about what I want as you are."_ _

__"Was that hard to identify? Was it?" Seth replied._ _

__"You want to play some blame game, and this shit gets old. Mad old." You said._ _

__"You're such a head fuck!" He said, shaking his head looking in disbelief._ _

__That caught you off guard. What type of head fuck could a woman be. One that's here in another relationship lighting match to a flame with an old one. Maybe that was Seth's trick. You felt so sick in the stomach at this moment. You don't want him to touch you as you back away. Like he's in love with toxicity, and you can't take it. Who gave a fuck who did each other wrong when it wasn't the right match._ _

__Your fingers tussled through your hair, and you release a heavy sigh._ _

__"If I'm the head fuck, then why are you here with me? Why do you still call me? Why do you still want me?"_ _

__Seth was silent._ _

__"Is it control? If you wanted something from me, then we could have got counseling, worked it out. Anything! I mean anything but then whatever the fuck this is." You refute._ _

__You're up against the wall. That's where Seth had you now. It's where he likes you—feeling powerless by his touch when his hands meet yours. He doesn't know how to say anything right in this state of resent. The shift of reality that takes over that you don't want him and it's not going to happen. Never again. If the truth was that you enjoy the life of avoidance, then let that truth be yours. However, you're still in his mind, heart, soul and encapsulates his being. Drunk or not, his desire isn't skillful. He lacks so much of himself he has to put that energy into another individuality._ _

__"If there was something I wanted. I wish I were between your legs. Not between your heart." Seth stated._ _

__He didn't want you in the way you thought he did. Not anymore. The cowardice refrainment of his true feelings is brooding in this moonlight, and it's time you go back home. Settling for this kind of hurt would only make it momentary. An abundance of discomfort that you no longer ardor._ _


End file.
